— Aster —

I entered the impossible hall and began to move towards the stone desk. When I started to get closer I saw a woman behind the desk. She was young, with long wavy dark hair, wearing and I noticed she was idly playing with a knife looking bored. Drawing closer to the desk I got a better angle and saw her wearing a loose tunic with a vest around her middle, with multiple gold earrings lining her ear, looking at her wrist she wore an old leather bracer that seemed to wrap around her forearm. I could only think she looked like the spitting image of what I imagined a pirate, and her large dark upturned eyes only added to the look.

I felt myself staring and had to peel my eyes away from her, though I wasn’t sure if she even knew I was there. She didn’t so much as a glance in my direction the entire time I walk towards her. When I reached the desk I wasn’t sure what I should do. Should I knock? Should I cough to get her attention? I stood there wrought with indication while she just kept playing with her knife. Realizing I had been standing for way too long just staring, feeling like a creep, I finally stuttered out, “He...Hello?”

The knife stopped moving and the pirate woman looked over the desk down at me, making me feel small, “Took you long enough to say something.”

I blanked. I had no idea what to do now, and could only stare up at her. This entire place has been a roller-coaster ride of emotion and even now I didn’t know if I was headed for another drop. My grip tightened, reminding me of what I held, what brought me here. I held up the bouquet of snapdragons, “Looking for a Home?” Why did I say that?

Her eyes widened, as a smile stretched her lips, “Not even a cat yet. A little lost kitten looking for a home.” Then she gave me a second look and asked uncertainly, “Do you even know what this place is?”

I knew this one, “It’s a home for wayward cats.” I said excitedly.

She continued looking me over, as she asked again, “And you’re looking for a home?”

“Yes?” Any confidence I had that this was the right place was slowly fading. Please don’t let this be a really weird place for adopting cats.

“Are you a cat?” She gave me a sideways look.

“Nooo?” This doesn’t seem to be going well.

“Then why would you be looking for a home in the ‘Home for Wayward Cats’?”

Turning red; I asked plainly, “That isn’t a code?”

“Oh, it is. I just have to make sure you know what this...” Gestures around the room “place is.” As her gaze fell on me I felt like a little kitten, staring at a tiger. “So little kitten do you know where you are?”

That was the final validation I needed. I had found it. “Yes.”

I still felt small as she asked. “Then why are you here?”

I still couldn’t believe I was here. I felt the answer to her question was the edge of the cliff and saying it allowed would truly bring me beyond the point of no return. And why? Because of an off-hand comment, from my one good day in the last year. Was Thorn right? Or am I doing something that will screw me over? Would a normal rogue be better? Would I do better in literately any other class? I didn’t know the answers to any of these questions, but that belief meant more than I ever realized. Slowly I answered, “I am here to become a Rogue. A Shadow Cat.”

Shadow Cat’s, a myth whispered on the mouths of rogues, a class hunted by the world at large, as secret hidden in plain sight. Something I was always warned against. I was turning my back on what the world expected of me. It felt right. it felt free. It felt like me. If I was going to do this I thought I might as well go big. Beside’s the way things have been going I didn’t know how long before I was left on my own again. No Aster, do not go down that train of thought.

The woman behind the desk smiled. “Good. You’re smarter than most, being cautious. Some people storm in, yelling that they want to be a Shadow Cat. No, subtly at all.” She gestured at the wall. “You on the other hand… I had to coax it out of you. So you’re either cautious or very dense.”

“Maybe a little of both.”

I heard a little chuckle from the pirate. Then an audible click that echoed throughout the room sounded. I looked around searching for the sound when I noticed a wall off to the side of the hall opening.

“Go through there and an instructor will be with you soon.”

They really like their secret doors here. I turned back to the prate woman, “Thank you!”

Her smile was gone as she shooed me away.

Walking through the opening, I heard the wall closing. I took one last look back at the woman behind the desk. She was still making shooing motions, I rolled my eyes entering the room.

I watched the door seal shut, and I found myself staring at a white stone wall. I moved my hand over the edges where the door should be and couldn’t find any indication a door had ever been there. I was stalling. I was still afraid that this was some kind of messed-up prank, but I was here.

I turned to take a look at the new surrounding. The walls appeared to be made of giant marble slabs polished to a high shine, broken only by the occasional velvet curtains. Similar to the hall I had just left there was a stone desk in the center, this one at a much more reasonable height. On the desk was a white marble statue of a cat holding out its paw, “What is with all the marble?”

“It is a little much isn’t it?” I jumped a full foot in the air, only to find an older man wearing an expensive grey suit with a round belly smiling just a little too wide, his eyes drifting down to where I held my money. My hand instinctively went down to protect the little money I had. The man only smiled wider, “Welcome to the Home for Wayward cats. You may call me Instructor.” Instructor opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Now. I already know why you’re here since you made it into this room, but why are you here?”

That makes no sense. He knows why I’m here but needs to know why? I narrowed my eyes at him as I answered questioningly, “I want to become a Shadow Cat?”

“First lesson. Never admit you are a Shadow Cat. You are a Cat, a Snow Cat, a Mountain Cat, or something else. Shadow Cats or Shadow Rogues are hated most places; not to mention the bounty.” The man proceeded to walk behind the desk opening drawers as he spoke. “This is our guild. We are Rogues. We are not Thieves. Thief is not a profession, but a lifestyle that anyone can do. Now a Rogue is something special, although thievery is part of what we do. A small part.” Emphasized the last part, “Again, why do you wish to join us?”

I tried to think of some kind of profound answer that didn’t sound pompous or pandering. I came up blank, I had come to this on a whim, on the worst day of my life, and all I knew was my answer, “Because everything else feels wrong and this feels right.” I had been isolated for so long I had felt like a shadow, always there but never truly part of things.

Instructor stopped his search to look me up and down, “Do you even know what it means to join us?"

“To hide in plain sight, to misdirect, to use the world around you to show truth with lies, and lies with truth.” I felt my face redden as I spoke, embarrassed by my own answer. To my surprise, Instructor was nodding thoughtfully at my words.

“Good. Good. I see you have put thought into this.” Leaning over the desk conspiratorially he stages whispered. “Some just say to become rich, to kill, to hide, to not be seen. So simple-minded.” Catching himself he added, “Don’t get me wrong. They can make great rogues, but no creativity.” Turning back to searching the desk the Instructor pulled out a long parchment, “First the contract.”